Little Whinging, Surrey, England, September 11, 1985

Percy looked out the window impatiently as the car came to a stop after two hours of driving. As far as he was concerned, that was way to long to be in a car. The woman – Aunt Petunia Dursley as he had been instructed to call her – got out of the car, and walked up to the building the vehicle had stopped in front of. Within moments she reappeared with two young boys, about Percy's age.

One was chubby and watery eyed, his cheeks red. Petunia held him gently by the hand, as if he was made of glass. The other child she held violently by the wrist. Like Percy, he had dark hair and green eyes. He wore glasses though, and was skinny, looking almost emancipated compared to the chubby boy.

"Dudley, Harry, this is your cousin, Percy," Petunia said to them. "He's going to be staying with us for a while." When did they get in the car? He must have zoned out.

"He and Harry are going to be moving into the second bedroom, Dudley" the big man, Vernon, said, "So you're going to half to move your spare toys under the stairs."

"Why?" the chubby one, or Dudley, whined, "It's mine, and Harry has under the stairs. Why can't I keep it?"

"Because they're getting too big fir under the stairs, and you could stand to loose some of that clutter!" Vernon snapped.

"But MUMMY!"

"Listen to your father," Petunia's voice started to break. Dudley started to kick her seat, and Petunia bit her tongue and ignored it.

Percy looked at the other young boy, Harry, and whispered to him, "Are they always like this?"

Harry just looked at him and whispered back: "Yes."

4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England, June 23, 1991

A blond man, maybe about eighteen, ran through a park or garden, sword in hand. Soon he came upon an apple tree, with a huge snake around the base. "Maia!" he whispered, and wings sprouted sprung from his shoes. Then Percy woke up.

It was once again Dudley's birthday. The obese boy had made the house shake, getting up at the crack of dawn and literally running down to the kitchen to see what he had gotten for his birthday. When Dudley was up, the whole house was up, and it was up to him and Harry to help Petunia get breakfast ready.

The past six years had not been great ones, as far as Percy was concerned. When his mother had died in that horrible accident, he had been taken and shipped half a world away to live with relatives he didn't even know.

From the day they had picked him up at Bristol, they had done nothing but provided only the most basic amenities, with labor and abuse as his payment. He had been put in a small room to share with one of his cousins, Harry, as the other one, Dudley, kicked and screamed complaining that the space was his to store what was easily identifiable even at a glance as junk. As he and Harry grew, the clothing they received were the worn fabric that Dudley outgrew. They were given the same food at the table as everyone else, but it was made clear that no extra money besides the bare minimum would be spent to feed both him and Harry.

Now, the conditions in and off themselves weren't what bothered Percy. When his mother was alive, she had been young and alone with a dead-end job in one of the most expensive cities in North America. Their apartment had been cramped, their clothing bought second hand, and the food on the table chosen as much for quantity as for quality. It was the unfairness of it all: the Dusleys lived like the upper middle class people they were while he and Harry were essentially servants.

Walking into the kitchen, Percy looked up to see Dudley look at his pile of presents, feeling slightly disappointed. The last time he had received a birthday present from any adult in his life was the one before his mother had been taken. He turned on the stove and took out the frying pan to make the bacon. Out of the corner of his eye, he see's Harry.

"I'll start the coffee," the other dark-haired boy said, "while you check the mail. The pan needs to heat up anyways."

Percy just nodded, having no interest in expanding the energy to speak. Picking up the pile of papers, mostly magazines and other junk mail, two envelopes caught his attention:

Perseus Jackson

Smallest Bedroom

4 Privet Drive,

Surrey, England

and

Harry Potter

Smallest Bedroom

4 Privet Drive,

Surrey, England

That intrigued him. Never before had he or Harry received mail of any kind. Some instinct told him that it would not be a goof idea to let Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to see the letters though, and held a figure between them and the rest of the mail in his right hand. Walking past the crawlspace under the stairs, he through the two letters in there, moved the rest of the mail to his left hand, and closed the slightly ajar door in one fluid motion.

Walking into the kitchen, Vernon spotted the pile of papers in Percy's palms. "What came in the mail today, boy?" the man asked.

"Nothing interesting," Percy replied, "just some magazines and other junk." He did not know what was awaiting him.

4 Privet Drive, Later that Day

As Vernon and Petunia were just getting ready to go out the door to take Dudley and his friend, Piers Polkiss, to the zoo, the phone rang.

"Hello," Petunia stated, "yes…umhum…of course, those things happen, don't worry about it," and she hung up the phone. Turning to Vernon, she sneered, "Mrs. Figg canceled, she tripped over one of those damn cats of hers and broke her leg. Petty excuse if you ask me. Either way, we have nothing to do with Percy and Harry now but take them with us."

"But mummy," Dudley started to cry, "I don't want them to ruin my birthday."

"Don't worry, Dudykins," Petunia comforted, "We'll make them be quiet, and how about we get you a sunday at the zoo too?"

Dudley's tears dried up, and Percy just rolled his eyes.